Broken Bird
by starpixie213
Summary: Michael meets and old friend and gets some news that will change his life forever. This story is finally finished, but the storyline? We'll see...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Burn Notice, and all its characters, plot lines etc. are not mine (sadly) and exist due to the creative genius of Matt Nix and his wonderful creative team.

Second disclaimer: since (to my knowledge) they never give Michael's exact age or birthday, I had to do some quick calculations and take a guess. Here's my math for those who are curious:

As of 2007 (when the show aired) Michael had been serving the country for 10 years (according to USA's character bio,) and since he joined the army at 17, that meant that he left in, roughly, 1997. Subtract 17 years from 1997 and he was born in 1980, which means in 2010 when "Brotherly Love" aired, he was 30. Phew!

This story takes place after the episode "Brotherly Love," and was inspired by Nate's parting comment that he'd "like his kid to have a cousin someday." Read and Review if you like, but constructive comments only please!

**Broken Bird**

**Chapter One: Old Friends**

Michael turned the flash drive over and over in his hands, musing over the fact that something so tiny had the ability to affect- and possibly destroy- so many lives. '_But then again_,' he thought to himself '_so do bullets and grenades_.' Shaking himself out of his reverie, he got up from his favorite and only chair and walked to the stairs that led to the 'upstairs' portion of his loft to hide the flash drive in the hollowed out leg of the table there. It wasn't a perfect hiding place, he knew, but it would take anyone who broke into his loft a while to search through all the false drawer bottoms, secret caches, and various other places he had weapons and documents hidden, and the loft wasn't often left empty for more than a few hours at a time. His phone rang, and he grimaced slightly as he saw it was his mother calling.

Sighing he hit the answer button and said "Yeah mom?"

"Michael I need you to come over here."

"Ma I-"

"There's someone here to see you about help Michael! You_ need_ to get over here and talk to her!"

"Mom…" Michael began, but stopped himself, knowing it was pointless to argue with his mother when she got _that_ tone in her voice. "I'll be there in a few, okay?"

"Alright Michael. I'll see you soon." Madeline said, sounding slightly mollified, and hanging up on him.

Michael sighed and grabbed his keys, and walked to the door. '_So much for having time alone to think_,' he thought to himself.

Michael strode to the back door of his childhood home and walked into his mother's kitchen, the familiar smell of cigarettes hitting him in the face like an invisible wall. In the kitchen, putting a pitcher of iced tea onto a tray along with three glasses was his mother, her bleached blonde hair slightly yellowed from her ever-present cloud of smoke and a half smoked cigarette dangling from her lips. Looking up, Madeline took the cigarette between two fingers in a practiced motion as she smiled at her son.

"Michael! There you are!" she said happily, throwing some sliced lemon into the pitcher.

"Mom, who is here and why do they need help?" Michael whispered tensely.

"You know her Michael- from high school! She said you went together," Madeline's face soured momentarily, "that is, until you _left_. Anyways, she found out you were in town and said that she _had_ to talk to you and that you were the _only_ person who could help her."

Michael felt a growing sense of dread one she mentioned high school. High school hadn't exactly been the best years of his life. Bending over to look under the counter, he felt the bottom drop out of his stomach; standing in his mother's entryway staring at an old family picture was none other than Melanie St. James.

Melanie St. James had been one the few people who Michael had actually _liked_ at his high school. She hadn't judged him when he got into trouble for fighting, or showed up to school with a split lip or black eye. She had helped him in school when they were in classes together and the teachers wouldn't help him, marked as a 'no-good troublemaker' and therefore not worthy of their time. He had even had dinner at her house a few times when they had been studying or the Westen house had been scant on food, at which times she had snuck him the leftovers into his backpack as he was leaving so he could share with his mother and brother. When he had asked her why she had bothered to care at all upon their farewell, she had smiled and said, "Because it looked like you needed a friend. And once I got to know you, you were a good friend to have."

Smiling slightly, Michael remembered that at that moment he had plucked up enough courage to plant a kiss full on her mouth to say goodbye- and that it had then had turned into something much more than a kiss in her soft bed with her sweet smelling sheets and skin. She had been the prettiest girl in school back in the day, and she was still beautiful. Her skin was barely kissed by the sun, and her long auburn hair fell in waves to the middle of her back. Her eyes were still the bluest blue he had yet to find, framed by long, dark lashes and a few more laugh lines than when he had last seen her. She stood at maybe 5' 5", but she had obviously kept herself in good shape, and carried herself with a confidence that made her seem taller.

Looking at her now, Michael felt a disconcerting and overwhelming sense of indebtedness to her, and the urge to help her with her problem. He followed his mother out of the kitchen and extended his hand to shake as she stood. "Melanie. It's been a long time."

Melanie smiled and sidestepped his hand to hug him. Stepping back before he'd had time to react she replied, "Hello Michael. It's good to see you."

Madeline, noticing the awkward tension between them, decided to break the ice by pouring the drinks. Taking hers in her hand, Madeline said, " I have some errands to run. I'll be back in a little while. Melanie it was lovely to meet you. I hope Michael can help you with your problem." With that, she hurried into the kitchen, putting down her glass and grabbing her keys and sunglasses before she slammed the door behind her. Melanie smiled nervously at Michael and sipped her drink. Licking her lips, she opened her mouth to only close it quickly again, as if unsure how to start. Michael gestured for her to take a seat.

"My mom said you had a problem. What can I do to help?" he asked.

Melanie swallowed hard, then launched into her story. "I have a daughter. She helps after school at a karate dojo downtown that gives huge discounts to children whose parents otherwise would never be able to afford to pay for them to go there. They teach karate and a few other type of fighting, but they also instill in all of their pupils self-respect, the harms of drugs both recreational and legal, and most of all the problems that gangs have caused the neighborhood. It was all going great until six months ago; the owner, Tom, had worked with a tattoo parlor to give major discounts to people who were having their gang insignias removed by laser so they could join the armed forces or get a better job. The leader of the local gang got wind of it and was furious. He and 10 of his gang members ambushed Tom after he closed one night and attacked him after he refused to stop helping kids leave his gang. He was stabbed 8 times- he would have _died_ if someone hadn't seen what was happening and called the police! Later that night, the tattoo parlor was set on fire and its equipment was destroyed. Now a _lot_ of people are scared, and some kids are leaving the school to join the gang. The guy, Jose, uses kids as young as _12_ to do errands or even run drugs!"

"So why come to me? Why not go to the police?" Michael asked

"No one can prove anything!" Melanie exclaimed in frustration. "The _bastard_ has cops- what's the phrase? - on the take. They warn him when he's about to get caught or they have a lead and he changes tactics. Nate said that you've handled similar things like this in the past, and that you could help."

"Nate said… When did you talk to Nate?"

"A few days ago. He friends with a few of my old friends from high school, and when they mentioned that _you_, the prodigal son, were back in town, I tracked down him number to talk to him. When he mentioned working with you, I managed to wheedle out the details from him about some of the things you done. I knew then that you were the only one who could help."

Michael made a mental note to have a very serious discussion with his brother about his ability to keep a secret very soon as he contemplated Melanie's situation. Finally he said, "I have to talk to the people I work with and get some more information before I figure out the best way to handle this. Let me get your number and I'll-"

"Wait!" she exclaimed as Michael stood to show her out. "Please sit. I- there's another reason I came to talk to you."

Michael sat slowly; slightly wary about what else she had to say.

Melanie took a picture from the purse that sat near her arm on the table. Taking a deep breath, she handed it to him. "That's Cassidy. My daughter. She'll be 15 in February."

"She looks like you." Said Michael, studying the pictures occupant intently. She had the same auburn hair as her mothers that fell to her waist in the picture, though hers was more curls than waves. Her eyes were the same true-blue, although her nose was slightly longer than her mother's button of a nose, with a slightly turned up tip. Her cheeks were dusted with freckles that carried over the bridge of her nose, giving her a look of pure mischief when added to her lopsided smile she gave the camera.

"Sometimes I think she looks more like her father. Michael do you remember when you came to say goodbye?" Melanie asked him.

Michael looked up at her and smiled a charming smile. "Yeah I do."

Melanie blushed and continued. "You left the next morning, and you never wrote or called or anything- and I'm not blaming you." She said holding up a hand to forestall him from speaking as he opened his mouth, looking defensive. "I know you had a rough childhood, and that that's putting it mildly. I didn't want to be the reason you had to come home and deal with your family after you had just escaped."

"I don't follow." Michael replied, slightly puzzled at the turn the conversation had taken.

Melanie looked at him intently. "Michael, you were the first and only man for 10 years that I ever slept with. Cassidy was born February 10th, 1998. I was just 19. She was conceived on May 6th of 1997. Cassidy Anne St. James is your daughter."

Michael stared at her, completely dumbfounded, letting the information he had just received sink in before blurting the first thing that came to his mind: "Shit."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: Tell Me **

Michael stared at Melanie for a long time before staring down at the girl in the photograph, studying her every feature again and again. Looking up at Melanie, he sorted through the list of questions that had suddenly formed in his mind and found them inadequate. Finally he said simply, "Tell me about her."

Melanie paused for a moment before saying; "She's constantly full of energy; even when I was pregnant with her she practically never stopped moving. She's smart, and funny, and sweet. Stubborn as hell when she wants to be- once she gets an idea into her head to do something, there's no talking her out of it. She's going for her black belt in karate in a month or so, and she started learning some Israeli martial arts 3 years ago. She loves music, and takes both gymnastics and dance classes. She receives good marks in school, although she likes English class and her Foreign Language classes best…" Melanie trailed off, unsure of what else to say.

"Classes?" Michael asked

Melanie nodded. "She is learning both French and Spanish. She had to work very hard to convince the school to let her do it, but she seems to have a knack for it. She loves to try new things; it doesn't matter if it's new food, snorkeling, or some crazy jumping twist thing for gymnastics. She's gotten in trouble at school for losing her temper and getting into a fight with some bully or other, I'm sorry to say… She's fearless, too. She used to climb so high up a tree it would scare me near to death that she'd fall and break her neck!" Melanie laughed and shook her head wistfully. "But she'd just climb down, look at me like I was crazy, and then run off to scale the jungle gym or see how high she could go on the swings."

Michael smiled slightly, picturing the little terror she must have been. "Your parents- did they know I was her father?"

Melanie sobered. "No. No one knew. My parents were furious when they found out, and kicked me out when I wouldn't get rid of her or give her up. Do you remember Debbie Hall?" Michael thought for a minute, and then shook his head. Melanie shrugged and continued on. "Well, she was my roommate until Cassidy was 5 and my father died. After he died, my mother asked me to move back home. She never really got over my father's death and died three years later; sometimes I think she died of a broken heart. She left me the house and my father's company, which I sold to his partner. I work at as a computer programmer for a local company now." She paused, choosing her next few words very carefully before saying; "I'd like you to meet her, Michael. More to the point I _need_ you to meet her and get to know her. I… I was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer 3 months ago, and I'm running out of time." She looked at Michael, her eyes pleading. "I don't have any siblings, and my aunts and uncles are old or miles and miles away. I don't want to die and let her think that she's all alone. I need you to take care of her."

"Mel, I am -was- a spy. People want me dead. There's almost not a day that goes by that someone's not _shooting_ at me or trying to blow me up! I _can't_ take care of a child- she'd get killed just being around me!"

"Michael you're her father! She needs you! I'm _dying_! Do you really want your daughter to watch her mother waste away and die in some hospital bed? When you live in the same city and could make her feel like she wasn't alone? She's not even 15 yet; she'll get put into some awful foster home and then God only _knows_ what will happen to her!"

Michael stood abruptly and began to pace, lacing his fingers behind his head in an effort not to pull out his hair in frustration. Suddenly he stopped and looked at Melanie. "Is she asthmatic? Allergic to smoke or anything?" he asked.

"Not really…why?" she replied, taken aback by his question.

"I live in a loft over a night club. I have maybe 5 actual pieces of furniture and she'd have no privacy there. But here, with my mom? If I can get her to cut back on smoking or smoke outside or something, Cassidy-" Michael stopped, his daughter's name feeling strange on his lips, before swallowing and continuing. "Cassidy could live here and be as safe as I could make her."

"Would your mother agree to that?"

Michael snorted. "She'd love it. She always wanted a daughter; Cassidy will be a dream come true for her."

Melanie mulled the idea over for a moment. "It sounds like it's a good idea." Melanie looked down at her watch. "Look, it's nearly 5 o'clock. I have to go get Cassidy from the dojo. Why don't you come with me? We could go to dinner." When Michael hesitated, Melanie said quickly, "If you go you can check out the neighborhood _and_ get a chance to meet Cassidy in a nice relaxed environment. My treat?"

Michael nodded reluctantly. "I'm parked out back." He said in way of a reply. "I'll follow you there."

Melanie smiled as she stood, slinging the strap of her purse over one shoulder. "How do you feel about Middle Eastern food? La Medina is Cassidy's favorite restaurant."

Michael plastered on his most charming smile. "Love it."

"Great! She'll be psyched!"

'_Well I've got that going in my favor_…' he thought cynically to himself as he locked the door behind Melanie, barely resisting the urge to slam his forehead against it. Pulling his sunglasses out of one pocket and his keys out of another, he walked out of the house and climbed into the Charger. '_I've defused bombs, been pinned down in firefights with a handgun and some duct tape, and done hostage extractions in hostile territory and barely broken a sweat. So why does the idea of meeting a teenage girl terrify me?_'

The part of Miami that was home to Tom Masterson's Martial Arts School was definitely _not_ the best, but it wasn't the worst either. Various shops, a family pharmacy, a few restaurants, and a vacant storefront or two surrounded the building. A few blocks east was were the gang territory truly began, amongst run down apartment buildings and duplexes that were dilapidated and not far from being condemned. A few blocks west, and you hit major businesses, multi-million dollar condos, and a few shopping centers. Pulling into the parking lot behind the school, Michael could see that unless someone was allowed to exit through the back door, at night the only way to the entrance in front was to walk through the alley that ran in between the dojo and an abandoned building that used to be a beauty parlor. Add in some pallets and a large dumpster for cover and the fact that neither the parking lot nor the alley was well lit, and there was a lot of places to hide and wait to attack somebody. Michael kept a lookout for anything that didn't bode well, but at the moment, there were only a few cars in the parking lot, and people were still doing errands in the surrounding stores. Reaching the front of the school, Michael followed Melanie through the solid steel door and into the waiting area where a few parents sat on couches or in chairs. To his right, there was a large desk where a Hispanic girl in her late teens sat answering the phone. She waved at Melanie when she looked up to see who had walked though the door, and pointed down a small hallway. Melanie smiled and waved back, then motioned for Michael to follow. Reaching the end of the hall, Michael saw a large room floored in mats, with more mats in a far corner and padded walls about 7 feet up. In the center, a group of 20 or so pupils sat in a rig around two fighters, both wearing heavy padding. One was in his mid to late 30s, tall and muscular, with a few tattoos running down one arm. The other was Cassidy. Michael saw now that she was taller than her mother by a few inches, but built along the same hourglass lines, though she was leaner and more toned than her mother. Michael watched as they blocked each other high and low, dodging punches and kicks in turn. As Cassidy moved to dodge a left handed strike, Michael felt his throat clench down on a sudden cry of warning as the strike became a feint and the man caught Cassidy in a right handed sucker punch.

"Who is that?" Michael asked, distracting himself from throttling the man who had hit his daughter.

"Anton. He's Tom's friend and a teacher here." Seeing the look on Michael's face, Melanie smiled encouragingly. "Relax, Michael. She's gotten hit a lot harder that that here. It's not easy to watch, but I'd rather see her hit here now and learn than in the real world and not be able to defend herself."

Michael grudgingly admitted to himself that she had a point, and watched Cassidy get back up and take a fighting stance again. He and Melanie continued to watch for another few minutes before a timer on Anton's watch went off and he called an end to the class. The class bowed to their teacher, who bowed back in respect and then boomed, "DISMISSED!" Causing the class to scatter, stripping off their gear and chatting as they walked towards where Michael and Melanie stood watching.

"Mom!" called Cassidy, running up to hug Melanie

"Hey there, Chickadee!" said her mother warmly, hugging her daughter back, then looking at her face more intently to see that she had split her lip sometime during the class.

"Mom it's fine." Said Cassidy, seeing the look of concern on her mother's face. "I've had worse. It'll heal in no time! How long have you been here?" Cassidy looked at Michael. "And who's this?"

"Only a few minutes. Little bird, this is Michael. He's an old friend of mine from high school who…dropped into town. Michael, this is Cassidy."

"Nice to meet you." Said Cassidy, extending her hand.

"Nice to meet you too, Cassidy." Said Michael, taking her hand. It was much smaller and delicate than his own, but he felt the calluses on her palm and finger pads that indicated someone who did a lot of work with their hands, and a good firm grip that indicated a strong character.

"Cassidy honey, why don't you hurry and change. I'm taking us out to dinner."

"Where?" asked Cassidy, clearly excited.

"La Medina. Turns out Michael likes Middle Eastern food almost as much as you do."

"Sweet!" Yipped Cassidy. "I'll change quick. Be right back!"

Melanie laughed and jerked her head towards the waiting area. "Let's go sit down. 'Quick' in Cassidy-speak is about 20 minutes at least."

Michael followed mutely behind her. When they reached the waiting area, he chose instead to look at the various displays of trophies, ribbons, and pictures of students displaying their skills for the camera. Cassidy was in more than a few of these, and it tickled Michael's pride to see what a strong and confident fighter his daughter was. His daughter. Comprehension finally dawned on him that he had a child, and he found himself well and truly scared at that simple truth. What had he missed in her life? Would she even _like_ him? He'd _hated_ his own father- what if she hated him too? What if bad parenting skills were all that he'd learned from his father? What if-

"Michael…?" Melanie said softly, gently touching his shoulder to break him out of his own little world of thought. Turning around, he saw Cassidy standing behind Melanie, a pink and purple gym bag slung across her back.

"Sorry. I was just…thinking." Michael said apologetically. '_Nice work Weston! Get so lost in your own head that you don't hear people talking to you. Pay attention!_' he thought acidly to himself. "Are we ready?" he asked, trying to be cheerful and only failing a little.

Cassidy snorted. "We've _been_ ready. We were just waiting for you."

Melanie shot her daughter a dirty look. "Cassidy, that's not polite! Remember your manners or we won't be going anywhere but _home_."

"Sorry mom." Cassidy said, sounding sincere. Melanie looked from Cassidy to Michael and back to her daughter. Cassidy took the unspoken hint. "Sorry Michael."

"No problem. Let's go eat."

"I'm starving!" Cassidy said, dramatically clenching her stomach as she walked towards the door.

"Yea," Michael muttered to himself. "Me too…"

Following Melanie and Cassidy through the alley to the parking lot, Michael watched as Cassidy energetically told her mother about the moves she'd learned in class, and how she'd barely gotten hit at all. Michael smiled, watching them interact. When they got to the cars, Melanie took Cassidy's bag and threw it in the back of her beat up Jeep Wrangler, slamming the door closed. Michael walked to the driver's side door and opened it when Cassidy finally noticed the Charger parked next to her mother's vehicle.

"Wow! Cool car!" she exclaimed, bounding over to lean in through the window to inspect it more closely.

"Uh, thanks. It was my dad's."

"Really? That's so cool! Is it a v6 or a v8?"

Michael was taken back. "Uh…it's a v8."

"Sweet! I bet it goes really fast. Does it?"

"It can…" Michael replied, amused.

"Can I ride with you?" Cassidy asked suddenly.

"What?"

"Can I ride with you _please_? Please? It's _such_ a cool car!" Cassidy laced her fingers under her chin, pouting and batting her big blue eyes at him.

Michael looked to her, then to her mother for aid, but Melanie said simply, "It's fine with me." Michael knew when he was beaten and outnumbered.

"Yeah I guess it's okay."

"Yes!" cheered Cassidy, opening the passenger door and climbing in, buckling herself in with relish. With a sigh Michael got in and started the car. Cassidy fairly levitated with excitement as the engine roared to life, sticking her arm out the window to wave at her mother.

"Did you learn to drive in this car?" Cassidy asked suddenly as they pulled out of the parking lot behind her mother.

"Umm… No. I learned how to drive in…other people's cars." He said simply, not wanting to admit that he'd learned to drive by hotwiring and stealing other people's cars to get from point A to point B.

"I can't _wait_ to learn how to drive! I want a Mustang, or maybe a Cobra convertible."

Michael chuckled and cocked his head at her. "A Mustang? Don't you want to start with something a little safer? Or cheaper on gas?"

"No way!" Cassidy exclaimed. "I want a fast car- why would I want something slow or safe or _boring_?"

"You have a point there…" Michael murmured.

"Were did you learn to like Middle Eastern food? Mom is still learning, and she says that there were only normal _boring_ restaurants around when she was my age."

This rapid-fire line of questioning took Michael back. "In the Middle East. I was…stationed there for a while."

"Really? That's so cool! What's it like?"

He paused for a moment before saying simply: "It's hot. The people there are big on hospitality and manners. The food is always different depending on the region, season, and who's cooking." He chose not to mention that the people he'd been involved with had considered guns a fashion accessory and blowing things up a national pastime, nor did he mention that the 'regional' food he'd once had to live off of had been a few MREs in a cave in Afghanistan.

"Wow. Cool… I can't wait to go there someday."

"The Middle East?"

"Well, there and Italy and basically all of Europe. Maybe even Asia and parts of South America too. I want to see _everything_."

Michael contemplated this statement. "I used to travel a lot for my job. It's not all that it's cracked up to be."

"Where have you been?"

"Well let's see…Ireland, Germany, Russia, parts of the Middle East… the last place I was before here was Nigeria."

"_Nigeria_? What's it like there?"

Michael grimaced. "I wasn't my favorite place I've been. The people there eat a lot of terrible smelling preserved fish. It's also unstable, corrupt, and hot as hell. It makes Miami feel cool in comparison. It's also the gun running capitol of Africa, so it can be kind of dangerous there."

Cassidy considered this. "Okay, cross Nigeria off my list. You said you've been to Russia?"

"Russia was interesting. Parts of it are dangerous, but there are parts that are very beautiful. If you ever go though, you have to learn Sombo if you want to truly be able to last in a fight."

"_Sombo_? What the heck is that?" Cassidy asked.

"Sombo is a form of Russian Martial Arts used by the Spetsnaz."

"The _what_?" asked Cassidy incredulously.

"Spetsnaz. Soviet Special Forces."

"Ooh…" Cassidy considered for a moment before asking, "Do you know it?"

"Yeah I know a bit." Michael slowly.

"Can you teach me?"

"What?"

"Can. You. Teach. Me." Cassidy repeated slowly.

"Why do you want to learn it?"

"Why not? You said it would be a good thing to learn if I want to travel."

Michael bit off a groan as he was sucker punched by his own words. "I don't know how long I'll be in town." He said simply. "It takes _years_ to learn properly."

"Oh. Okay." Cassidy said, slumping back in her seat, disappointed.

Michael felt like he'd just told her that there was no Santa Claus. "I think we're here." He said, pilling into a parking space behind Melanie's car. Cassidy nodded and unbuckled her seatbelt, opening the door and climbing out as Michael did the same.

Cassidy went into the restaurant first as her mother locked her car. Turning to Michael expectantly, Melanie asked "So? How did it go?"

Michael shrugged. "We talked about cars and traveling. It went well I think considering."

"Considering?" Melanie asked.

"Considering she's a teenage girl who happens to by my kid. A kid that I never knew existed and I have no idea how to talk to! I suck with kids. You have no idea how much I suck with kids."

Melanie frowned at him. "I think that's half the problem right there- Cassidy isn't going to be a kid much longer. She's barely one now! She's more and more like an adult each time I look at her. What kind of kid talks about traveling or different styles of kickboxing or the physics of shooting a gun?"

"Physics of shooting a gun? You're kidding."

Melanie shook her head. "I wish. I was going to be her 10th grade science experiment until the school said no. She had to change it to the physics of a rollercoaster."

Michael opened his mouth when Cassidy poked her head out of the restaurant. "Are you guys _coming_ or what? They have our table already!"

Melanie shrugged at Michael and walked away. Michael trailed behind her, thinking to himself '_this can't be harder than negotiations over dinner with warlords, right?_'

The restaurant was more authentic than Michael had anticipated. The music and the smell of cumin and coriander, mixed with garlic and mint, brought memories back of when times were simpler, lines were clearer, and he had still been childless. Tables and chairs that were upholstered broke up the interior in bright colors of red, purple, and gold in stark contrast against the white plastered walls and dark wood floor. Along the left wall, 5 private booths made of dark wood, sat dimly lit. A waiter stood by a table to his right with a few menus and a painfully patient look on his face as he waited for Michael and his party. Michael held out a chair for Melanie to his left and Cassidy to his right, putting his back to the wall and giving himself a clear view of the entrance more out of old habit than preference. Looking at the menu the waiter handed to him, Michael read: La Medina, serving homemade food from the Mediterranean to the Middle East since 1999. Upon further reading of the offered dishes, Michael had to admit that he was impressed with the variety. He liked Spanish food well enough, but this was a nice change from Carlito's standard fare.

"What are you getting?" Cassidy asked him intently.

"I think I'll get the Haddock Taratoor. It sounds good." Michael replied, then added, "And a cup of Turkish Coffee. I haven't had that in a long time."

"I hope you like spicy! I tried it once and it was really really hot- and I _like_ spicy food!" Cassidy said in an aggrieved tone.

"I think I can handle it." Michael replied blandly, then asked in return: "What are _you_ getting?" Cassidy smiled at him shyly, and Michael had the disconcerting feeling that the girl was developing a crush on him.

"_I'm_ getting a plate of falafel for an appetizer with a side of tabouleh, the Baked Lamb Tagin for dinner, and baklava for desert. It's my favorite." Cassidy beamed at him before turning to her mother. "What are you getting, mom?"

"I think I'll get the baked eggplant. And some cool mint tea." Melanie replied after a moment's consideration. Cassidy made a face of disgust at her mother's dinner selection, but said nothing and turned the menu over to read the back. Melanie smiled at Michael encouragingly and nodded towards their daughter, trying to get him to strike up a conversation. Michael widened his eyes and gave his head a small shake, unsure of what to say. Just then, his cell phone rang in his pocket. Seeing it was Fiona, Michael took it as an excuse to step out.

"I'm sorry, I have to take this." He said to the girls, covering the receiver with his hand. Walking outside, he said, "Hey Fi."

Fiona Glenanne's suppressed Irish lilt was colored with concern over the phone. "Michael? Where are you? You were supposed to meet Sam, Jesse, and I at Carlito's to discuss plans."

Michael groaned. "I'm sorry Fi. My mom contacted me about a job and I got a little…sidetracked. Meet me at the loft for 7 and we'll talk about it okay? I'm sorry I have to go."

"Michael-"

"I gotta go. Bye Fi." Michael ended the call over Fiona's objections, knowing he'd catch flack for it later. Heading back inside, he found that the girls had already ordered for all of them and that their drinks had arrived. Mother and daughter tried to wheedle information and conversation out of Michael as best they could, but once the food came they stopped trying very hard and focused on eating. Michael snagged a few falafels from the plate Cassidy had ordered and enjoyed them until his own food came. The food was as spicy as Cassidy had warned, but he'd had hotter, and the heat didn't subtract from the well-balanced flavor of the spices, so he enjoyed the dish. Halfway through dinner, Melanie excused herself to go to the restroom, leaving Michael alone with Cassidy.

"Ouch!" exclaimed Cassidy, suddenly.

"What's wrong?" he asked, looking up suddenly from his meal to see the girl holding a paper napkin to her mouth.

"The cut on my lip opened up." She complained, moving the napkin away from her mouth to show him where the cut bled sluggishly.

Michael handed her a clean one from the unoccupied table next to them, surreptitiously pocketing the one with her blood on it. When Melanie came back looking a little green around the gills, the little sad look she directed towards Cassidy's oblivious head told him two things: that her illness was taking it's course, and he was running out of time before he was a single parent. Michael swore he could feel his heartbeat in his ear, beating like a doomsday clock.

After dinner, the group packed up the leftovers, and Cassidy was displeased that Michael wasn't available to spend more time with them.

"I have work to do." He said simply. "But I'll see you again soon. It was nice meeting you." Thanking Melanie for dinner, he got into his car and drove away, leaving Cassidy watching mournfully from the passenger's seat.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: Proof**

Michael didn't want to think that Melanie was lying to him about Cassidy being his daughter, but he'd had enough people try and jerk him around before that he wasn't taking any chances. Sitting on the stool in the small kitchenette on his loft, he took a knife he'd sterilized and made a small incision on his pinky, letting the blood drip a few drops onto a clean tissue before covering the cut with a band-aid and placing the tissue in a plastic sandwich bag. From his pocket he took the napkin that Cassidy had dabbed her cut with and placed it into another sandwich bag. The door to his loft opened and Sam walked in.

"Hey Mikey, what's the deal? You stood us up at Carlito's buddy."

"Yeah I know, Sam. I'm sorry. My mom called and-"

"I know, I know, Fi mentioned a job. What's the gig?" Michael filled Sam on the gang problem, leaving out that Melanie had told him he was the father of her child. Sam did not look enthused. "Mike, these sound like very bad guys. Even with Jesse back on board, I'm not sure that we can fix this without some major firepower."

"I'd like to do some research and recon on this Jose guy before I have to say no. The guy uses kids to run drugs. We can't just sit here and do nothing."

"Alright Mikey, I'll give you that. What do you want me to do?"

Michael smiled. He loved having Sam at his back at times like these. "I need you to talk to your cop buddies. Get any information you can on his organization, their cash flow, and his lieutenants."

"Sure thing buddy. Anything else?"

Michael hesitated, before showing Sam the two sandwich bags. "Do you think you could get one of your cop buddies to run a DNA match on these two samples?"

Sam frowned. "Are these for the case?"

"Something like that." Michael replied.

"I don't know Mike, that might be a lot harder. I _might_ be able to get them to run it, but I'll have to use a considerable amount of Sam Axe Charm." Sam flashed a smile and winked. "One of my cop friend owes me a pretty big favor. I'll talk to him and see what I can do."

"Thanks, Sam." Michael said, relieved.

"You betcha buddy. How about a beer?"

Fiona was not as forgiving as Sam about being stood up and hung up on, but once she heard about the gang leader using children as drug mules, that was all the encouragement she needed. "Let's get the _bastard_." She said fiercely, cocking her gun and baring her teeth in a predatory smile. Jesse felt the same way, although he was more concerned about the USB drive currently hidden in Michael's apartment. They spent the next few days poring over the files Sam had gotten from his cop friends, taking turns doing covert surveillance on the gang's leader, Jose Martinez, and his band on baggy-pants henchmen. To his credit, Martinez was a lot brighter than he looked, with his straight-from-the-ghetto fashion and his gun in plain sight sticking out of the waistband of his pants. He controlled his gang members with fear and money, and demanded complete respect though he showed none to anyone in public.

Michael was just beginning to formulate a plan to infiltrate and ultimately destroy the gang when Sam walked in with a six-pack of beer in one hand and a manila envelope under his other arm.

"Hey Mikey! I've got those results you wanted." Said Sam.

"Great, Sam! Thanks." Michael looked up from the pile of paperwork and began to reach out to take the envelope from Sam when he saw the look on his friend's face. "What's wrong Sam?"

"Mikey, this wasn't just any DNA comparison. You keep forgetting that you're in the system, pal. They have more than your fingerprints and retinal scan and all that- they have you in CODIS. This was match all right- to you. You didn't think that that would raise a few red flags in the government sector? Who is this person?" Michael sighed and hung his head. It was official now, and there was no way he could deny the fact that Cassidy was his daughter. "Mike?"

"She's my daughter, Sam." Michael replied quietly.

Michael had seen Sam speechless only a handful of times in his life, but the facial expressions that accompanied those times were usually times Michael wished he had a camera. This time didn't disappoint. "She's your… You have a… What? How? Who?"

"She's my daughter." He managed to say it with more strength and confidence now. "Right before I left for the army I went to say goodbye to my one and only female friend, and it became a much longer goodbye than I had thought it would. She was the one who came to me with the job. Her daughter-my daughter- Cassidy, goes to the school owned by the guy who got attacked."

"Cassidy. Pretty name. Cassidy Westen?"

Michael shook his head. "St. James. Cassidy Anne St. James. She's almost 15. And smart, and funny, and beautiful, and Sam I can't _do_ this! I can't be a parent! What do I know about being a parent?" Michael finally lost his cool and confident air and vented to his friend.

"Mikey…" Sam's voice trailed off as Michael shot up off of his stool, pounding his fists on the counter as he did so.

"She's dying, Sam."

"_Cassidy_?"

"No. Melanie. He mother. She has pancreatic cancer. That's one of the reasons she looked me up when she heard I was in town. She wants me to take care of her. To _be_ her father." Michael looked up at Sam, and Sam was surprised to see both guilt and fear on his friend's face. " I ran the DNA sample because I thought there was a chance this was someone who burned me trying to rattle my cage. In part, I was hoping it was true. But now there's proof right there in your hand. I have a daughter. And that means that anyone who wants to get to me could do it through her and if I'm a million miles away there's no way I could protect her unless I never leave Miami. And if I never leave Miami…the people who burned me _win_." Michael slumped back onto his stool and rested his head on his arms. Sam, not knowing what else to do, walked over to the counter and set down the beer and the folder. Gently, he patted his buddy's shoulder. When Michael looked up at him, Sam looked at him with a reassuring smile.

"Look Mikey, it's true that _you_ can't protect her from a million miles away, but Fi and Jesse and your mom and I are still here. We're your friends and God knows you're the closest thing to a family I may ever have. So quit your worrying- we'll watch your little girl, even if she's not so little." Sam cracked open two beers and handed one to his brother-in-arms. Michael looked at him, puzzled, when Sam held his aloft until he said "Congrats Mikey- it's a girl."

"Thanks, Sam."

"No problems brother. Now! What are we going to do about this little gang problem?"

Melanie's childhood home was five blocks west of the Westen home, but those five blocks had always demonstrated the difference between middle class and upper middle class to Michael when he was a teenager. Compared to his mother's quaint two bedroom one bathroom home, Melanie's home was a rambling _five_ bedroom, two and a half bath structure that looked as if the architect had based off of a Tuscan villa. The horseshoe shaped drive was lined with snowy white gravel that stood out boldly against the vivid green grass. Michael pulled the Charger into Melanie's driveway, feeling as out of place now as he had when he was 17. He walked up to the front door and knocked, shifting his weight anxiously from one foot to another. When the door opened, it was Cassidy who stood there.

"Hi Michael. Mom's…not feeling to great."

"Yea I know, but I really need to talk to her."

The girl hesitated. Michael flashed her his guaranteed to charm smile and could almost see her resistance melt. "I guess it's okay… Have a seat on the couch and I'll go tell mom you're here."

Michael nodded and had a seat on the plush sofa in the living room, taking in the big screen TV with surround sound speakers. On the marble and wrought iron coffee table in front of him sat a few magazines, one of Cassidy's textbooks, and a beat-up photo album. Peering around the corner to make sure no one was around, Michael picked up the album and opened it. Inside were snapshots of Cassidy. He saw pictures of her as a tiny baby, swaddled in blankets and pink. In another, she clung to her mother's hands as she took an unsteady-looking step, eyes staring curiously at the camera. Michael saw birthday pictures, Christmas portraits with pretty dresses, candid shots of her making funny faces, all broken up by her yearly school photos. His head snapped up as her hear shuffling steps coming down the stairs from the second floor, and he quickly placed the photo album down on the table like he had found it.

"Michael? What are you doing here?" Melanie looked tired and worried as she stepped into the room.

"I've been thinking, Melanie."

Melanie braced herself, fearing the worst. "About what?" she asked quietly.

"Cassidy. Does she know?"

"That you're her father? No, of course not! I didn't want to tell her and get her hopes up if you were…unavailable."

Michael nodded, understanding. "I think you should tell her. I'd like to be able to introduce her to my mother if she's going to be staying with her when…when it comes time."

Melanie felt as if a great burden had been lifted off of her shoulders, and her face reflected it. "Oh Michael! That's- oh I can't even begin to tell you how happy I am!"

"Happy about what, Mom?" asked Cassidy, walking into the room with a few bottles of soda in her hand.

"Cassidy- Chickadee I need you to sit down."

Cassidy gave her mother a wary look, but set down the bottles and plopped herself into an overstuffed armchair. "What's up?"

"Cassidy, I have to tell you a few things that are going to be very hard for you to hear, but I need you to stay calm and listen to me. Can you do that?"

"I…I think so." Cassidy shot Michael a confused look.

"You know, sweetie, that I've been sick. But I didn't share with you _how_ sick I was. I have pancreatic cancer. Unlike some other cancers, this one isn't curable."

"You- you're _dying_?" Cassidy asked, her eyes glistening with tears

"Yes, baby, I am." Melanie whispered, tears trailing down her face as she watched her daughter's heart break.

"But what will happen when you…" Cassidy couldn't finish her question without weeping.

"That's why Michael is here. Michael is more than just my old friend. He's your father."

"_What_?" cried Cassidy wetly "But where has he been? Why didn't he come before now?"

"I didn't know you existed, Cassidy. Your mother and I…created you right before I left for the Army. She didn't tell me about you until she found out I was in town last week."

"So that whole time we were at dinner making stupid small talk you were _both_ keeping this a secret from me? Like I was some stupid kid?"

"No, honey. We just weren't sure how to tell you." Melanie said, trying to soothe me daughter's wounded pride.

"Well this is just a _great_ way to tell me! That he's my dad and _you're_ gonna die and I'm gonna live with a guy who I don't even know!" Cassidy ran from the room sobbing, pounding up the stairs and slamming her door. Melanie sighed and looked apologetically ay Michael.

"I'd better go talk to her. Can you wait, or do you need to go?"

"I can stay. She may actually want to talk to me eventually."

"I hope so…" said Melanie as she left the room.

'_Well that went well_.' He thought to himself, leaning back on the couch and closing his eyes. '_Something tells me this is going to be a looong day_.'


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four: Best Laid Plans**

When Michael opened his eyes again, it was to the sound of metal hitting wood. Bolting up, he looked around for the noise's origin for a moment before seeing a rotund Golden Retriever flopped down on the floor, gazing back at him with dark brown eyes. Looking down at his watch, he realized that he must have dozed off for a few hours. Down the hall, he heard the sound of clinking glasses and rattling dishes, which he followed stealthily to the kitchen.

The kitchen was large and open, with a double oven stacked in the far wall next to a large, stainless steel refrigerator. In the center, there was an island with a built in cook top, the stainless steel burners gleaming in the dimly lit kitchen. To his far left was a small alcove of large bay windows that looked out at a well-kept terrace, and beyond that a large in-ground pool that was gated off from the rest of the spacious back yard. In that alcove there was a large, glass-topped wrought iron table surrounded by heavy wrought iron chairs with snowy white padded seats at which sat Cassidy at the head facing him, otherwise preoccupied with eating something out of a bowl. Noticing movement out of the corner of her eye, she looked up, startled.

"Holy- you scared the crap outta me!" She exclaimed.

"Sorry about that." Michael said, trying to rub a kink out of the back of his neck. Looking around he added, "Where's your mom?"

"She's sleeping. She gets really tired from…well, you know." Cassidy looked down, her expression sad.

Sensing tears soon, Michael quickly changed that subject. "What are you eating?"

"Yogurt and granola." She said quietly. Looking up she asked, "Do you want some?"

"Uh…sure. Just the yogurt though, please." Michael took a seat next to where Cassidy had been sitting, keeping an eye out the slowly darkening yard.

Cassidy got up and went to the fridge. "Vanilla, Strawberry, Plain, or Blueberry?" she asked.

"Blueberry would be good. Thanks."

She took the container out of the fridge and a spoon out of a drawer before sitting back down, handing him his food, and continuing eating. Peeking into her bowl, Michael saw chunks of chocolate and pieces of fruit. "That looks like more than just granola." He commented, opening his yogurt.

Cassidy smiled. "I convinced Mom to get this stuff because of the dried fruit in it. She didn't notice the chocolate in it until I was already eating it."

"Sneaky." Michael chuckled.

"_Clever_." She corrected loftily. The conversation died off for a few moments as they both ate before Cassidy said slowly, "So you're my…dad."

"Looks that way." Michael affirmed.

Cassidy paused before asking, "So what do I call you?"

Michael considered the question. "What do you _want_ to call me?" Seeing her reaction, he added quickly "that's polite."

Cassidy smiled. "Can I just call you Mike? Michael's kinda formal sounding, and calling 'Mr. Weston' just sounds dumb… and Dad is a little weird right now."

Michael nodded. "Mike sounds like it'll work for now. How about you?" Cassidy looked at him, puzzled, before he went on. "Are you Cassidy or Cassie?"

His daughter shrugged. "Either one works. Not Cass though. Never _Cass_." She made a face of disgust that he laughed at. "So Mom said when…when it's time, that I'm gonna live with _your_ mom?"

"I have to talk to her about it still, but that's the plan so far."

"What's her name?"

"Madeline. I suppose she'd be Grandma Weston or Grandma Maddie to you if you were both comfortable with it."

"Why can't I stay with you? Mom said you had a loft, but you could move in here and-"

Michael shook his head. "Look Cassie, you're a great kid for all that I've just met you, but I wasn't lying when I said I wasn't sure how long I'd be in town. And there are…parts of my life that could be very dangerous if you were with me."

"What do you mean?" she asked, more curious than upset.

He sighed, trying to think of a good way to say 'I was a spy' without actually _saying_ those exact words. Finally he said, "I told you before that I traveled a lot for my job, and that was true. But that was only part of it. Another big part of my job was dealing with some very dangerous people, some of who would like nothing better than to see me hurt, dead, or in a lot of pain. And one of the easiest ways to do that would be to go through _you_ to get to me. And if you lived with me, that would be way too easy."

Cassidy's eyes widened. "What did you _do_?" she asked.

"I worked for the government."

"_Our_ government?"

"Yes."

"Wow… that's some heavy stuff."

"You have no idea." He muttered into his yogurt cup and becoming suddenly preoccupied at scraping the bottom to avoid the curious looks his daughter was now directing at him. The house phone rang suddenly, breaking the relative silence.

Cassidy got up quickly to answer the handset in the kitchen before the ringing woke her mother. "Hello? Oh- hi! ...That's great! Okay, thanks for calling! Bye!"

"Who was that?" he asked as she hung up the phone and put it back on the charger.

"Rosa, the receptionist at the karate school. She's calling everyone to let everyone know that Tom was released from the hospital and will back to teaching tomorrow."

Michael opened his mouth to speak when Melanie shuffled sleepily into the kitchen, followed by the roly-poly retriever.

"Cassidy? Who was that on the phone?" Melanie asked her daughter.

"The dojo. Mom- Tom's coming back tomorrow! Isn't that great?"

Melanie looked at Michael, worried. "That's great, sweetie. Why don't you take Brody for a walk?" she suggested. "I need to talk to Michael for a little bit."

Cassidy opened her mouth to argue, but the look on her mother's face stopped her. "Okay, Mom." She said instead, calling the dog after her as she left the room.

When they heard the front door close, Melanie looked at Michael, her concern plain. "Michael, I didn't want to alarm Cassidy, but I have some serious concerns now that Tom is coming back. That gang isn't going to stop until he's dead, and they won't care who gets in the way."

"I know. I'm going to do some more surveillance on the area, but I think I have a plan."

"What is it?" Melanie asked warily.

"I'll tell you when I'm sure it will work. In the mean time, why don't you let me pick up Cassidy tomorrow?" When Melanie hesitated, he added, "I'd like to check out the school some more, and I need to spend some time one on one getting to know her. I'll take her out to get ice cream or something."

Melanie sighed. "Alright, Michael. I guess I can't argue you wanting to spend time with her… I'm going to take a nap. When Cassidy comes back, tell her to do her homework and that I'll be up in a few hours, will you?"

"Sure. Should I stay, or…"

"No it's alright. She's okay unsupervised for a few hours. Goodnight, Michael."

"Goodnight."

When Cassidy came home, panting dog in tow, Michael delivered her mother's message and bid her goodnight, informing her that he'd be picking her up tomorrow. On the way back to his loft, he stopped at a store with an idea in mind.

'_People say that money can't buy love, but give a teenage girl a watch that all teenage girls feel they 'need to have,' and she'll prove that saying wrong. And if that watch just happens to have a GPS chip in it so her former spy father can find her, then that's all the better_.' Michael thought to himself as he fit the back of the watch back on, making sure that it looked as new and scratch-less as when he had first bought it. The watch was a bluish-grey, and had a little rhinestone star next to the month and date on its little digital face. He put it in the pretty gift box he had gotten with the watch and tied the ribbon back into a passable looking bow.

The door to his loft opened and Fiona walked in, Michael quickly stashed the box into the drawer, irrationally afraid of Fiona seeing it and getting the wrong idea that it was for her the worse idea that it was for another woman he was romantically involved with.

"Well, Michael?" Fiona asked as she sashayed over. "What's your brilliant plan to stop this drug running scum from continuing business?"

"I found out today that the owner that got attacked is going back to teach tomorrow. It's not going to take long for the gang leader to find out, and then when he makes his move, we'll have him."

"Sounds plausible." Said Fiona, walking around him to get a beer from the fridge. She opened it and took a sip, thinking. "So how are we going to direct his anger in our favor?"

"I'm going to talk to Tom, the owner, tomorrow and see if I can talk him into baiting Jose. If this guy gets angry enough, he just _might_ be stupid enough to go after Tom. Except this time, we'll make sure he doesn't get away before the cops get there."

"I like it." Said Fiona. "But what if this Tom fellow doesn't go for the idea?"

"I think he will. If he's angry enough and sincere enough about getting rid of the gang's influence over the area, I have a feeling he'll be all too willing to help."

Fiona nodded. "Alright." She said, taking a piece of paper and a pencil from his work area and handing it to Michael. "Sketch out the blueprints and area and lets start planning."

The next day, Michael went over his mother's house to supervise the team he had hired to rid the house of the smell of cigarette smoke that had permeated the house for years. Madeline wasn't home at the time, which Michael was relieved about as he set the crew loose on the house. They were almost done when Madeline came home. At first, she was pleasantly surprised to see her son, but her pleasure quickly faded when she saw the team at work.

"Michael, what the _hell_ are these men doing in my house?" Madeline exclaimed in dismay, cigarette in hand.

"Mom…hi! Umm… hey why don't you come outside with me?" said Michael quickly, ushering her out the door. "We have to talk."

"I can see _that_ Michael! Why don't we start with why those people are in my house!" Madeline fumed, taking a drag on her cigarette.

"Well, Mom… I have some new for you."

"What?" asked his mother tartly.

"Well, you remember Melanie? The woman who was here last week?" Michael asked, trying to think of the best way to break the news to his mother.

"Of course I do, Michael! What about her?"

"Well she has a daughter. Cassidy. She's almost 15."

"Alright, so she has a daughter. So what?"

"Well as it turns out, she's…uh…she's my daughter too."

Madeline stared at him for a moment in shock. "You have a daughter? Michael how could you wait this long to tell me?" she cried, hurt.

"Mom, I _just_ found out about her last week. And no offense to Melanie, but I wanted to make absolutely sure Cassidy was _actually_ my daughter."

"What do you mean?" Madeline asked, surprised.

"Ma, a _lot_ of people have tried to jerk me around with my burn notice. I wanted to make sure that this wasn't another one of those times."

"Well, how do you know?"

"I had a DNA test run."

"And it was a match?"

Michael nodded. "100%."

Madeline went from surprised to curious to overjoyed in a matter of seconds. "I'm a _grandmother_?" she said hoarsely. "I'm a grandmother! Oh Michael I'm so happy! When can I meet her?"

Michael was relieved his mother was taking the news well, and decided to fill her in on Melanie's condition and what it would mean for Cassidy. When he asked her if she would be comfortable with Cassidy coming to live with her, Madeline grew impatient with her son. "Well of _course_ she can live with me Michael! She's my granddaughter!" Suddenly, Madeline grew suspicious. "Is _that_ why you have workers in my house?"

Michael smiled. "I know it will be hard for you, Mom, but I was hoping that if Cassidy were to come live with you we could keep her in a relatively smoke-free environment."

"You want me to quit smoking?"

"I've _always_ wanted to quit smoking! But if you don't want to, I'd ask that you smoke outside, away from Cassidy."

Madeline considered this for a moment. "I'll have to think about it, Michael. I'll try smoking only outside for now, if that makes you happy."

Michael was willing to take what he could get. "Thanks, Mom. I have to go pick Cassidy up. I can bring her by to meet you after we get ice cream. Or before if you want to come." He added quickly, seeing his mother begin to protest.

Madeline smiled brightly. "That would be lovely, Michael. I'll see you soon."

"Bye Mom." Said Michael, donning his sunglasses and heading for the Charger.

Michael arrived early to pick up Cassidy the next day, and used the time to take some detailed but discreet pictures of the building, alleyway, and surrounding area, amending the previous night's rough sketch in his head as he did so. After taking his pictures, Michael put the camera in his pocket as he walked inside. Walking up to the reception desk, he was stopped by Rosa the receptionist.

"I'm sorry, sir, but you have to sign in," she said, handing him a clipboard and a pen. "And I'll also need to see some I.D. please."

"Of course." Michael said, smiling charmingly. "I'm glad to see my daughter goes to a place with good security."

Rosa blushed. "It's more than that Mr. … Westen. It's also for our liability for insurance purposes."

"Well I can see Cassidy is in safe hands. May I go and watch her class?"

"Of course! You remember the way?" Rosa asked as she gestured down the hall.

"I do. Thank you." Michael said as he walked past her, noticing a security camera that was discreetly placed behind the reception area.

At the end of the hall, he saw that the class had broken off into pairs for guided sparring, watched by a man in his mid to late 40s who sat in a chair calling out various strikes and blocks. Cassidy, however, was sparring separately with Anton a ways away from the rest of the class, and this was clearly _not_ guided. Michael watched intently as Cassidy fought, analyzing her fighting style and realizing that along with karate and krav maga, she was also mixing in some gymnastic and dance moves as she dodged a leg sweep by jumping and doing a flip backwards to land on one leg while the other leg quickly came up with the intention of catching Anton under the chin. It was a good idea, but Anton was anticipating it. As she brought her leg up, he caught it easily with the intent of throwing off her balance. She twisted quickly and kicked him on the side of his head before he could block, and he let go of her leg as he staggered from the blow. Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, Cassidy used the same leg sweep he'd tried on her to knock him over onto his stomach to straddle his back and pin his hands behind his back using her body weight.

"I yield." Michael heard Anton say, his voice muffled by the mat he now lay face first on. He looked away from Cassidy sitting triumphantly on Anton's back at the sound of clapping, and realized that the other teacher and rest of the class was applauding. Michael joined them, intensely proud of his daughter. Cassidy got up and helped Anton up. Teacher and student bowed respect to each other. When Cassidy straightened, she noticed Michael standing watching her and ran over to greet him. She surprised him by leaping to hug him in her euphoria of beating her teacher, but he caught her and hugged her back, secretly relishing the feeling.

"Did you see? I won!" Cassidy exclaimed happily, bouncing up and down with excitement.

"I saw! That was a good hit." Michael said, nearly bursting with pride. Looking up he saw Anton striding over to them.

"So you are Cassidy's father." Said Anton warmly, extending his hand to shake, which Michael shook.

"I am." Michael affirmed. Up close, he could see the tattoos he'd noticed running down Anton's arm before. On his bicep was the Army Ranger insignia, which was slightly faded from age and sun. Further down on his forearm were a pair of crossed rifles with the words 'Freedom isn't Free' written over them.

"Cassidy is a good student. You must be very proud." Anton said, clapping Cassidy's shoulder with one meaty hand. To her he said, "Nice kick, kid. I need to go get some ice before it starts to bruise. See you later." As he walked away, Michael could see him rubbing his head where he'd been kicked.

"He's right- that was a nice kick." Michael complimented his daughter.

"Thanks. I have to go change- I feel like I might smell." Said Cassidy, making Michael laugh.

"I've smelled worse, trust me. Go ahead and change. I'll wait for you in the other room."

"Okay!" Cassidy said brightly, running off.

Michael looked to see the man that had been sitting in the chair watching them as Cassidy ran to join the rest of the class going to change. The man walked over stiffly, leaning heaving on a cane as he did so. When he reached Michael, he examined in closely.

"She looks like you." He said abruptly. "You don't see it at first, but look closely and you can tell." He extended his hand. "I'm Tom Masterson. Melanie said you might have a solution to the school's problem- and mine."

Michael shook the man's hand, deciding that he liked the man's direct attitude. "Michael Westen. I might, but I had a few questions first."

"What do you want to know?" Tom asked

"The camera behind the reception desk- is that the only one?" Michael asked

"Nope. The whole place has them. Insurance liability and all that." Tom shrugged. "The only places that don't have them are the changing areas, but the hallway outside does."

"Great." Said Michael, a plan formulating in his mind. "How far are you willing to go to get rid of this guy and his gang?"

"Well I don't my place blown up if _that's_ what you're asking, but short of that I'm willing to help you in any way I can."

"I think I can do this with minimal damage to the building. I need you to start making flyers to pass around the neighborhood."

"Flyers?" Tom repeated. "We're gonna get rid of this guy with _flyers_?"

"Not exactly. We _are_ going to make him mad enough to attack again when he thinks you're alone. Only this time, my team and I will make sure he and his guys can't escape before the cops show up. And with _video_ evidence with him trying to kill you, not even his cop contacts will be able to help him."

"I like it. I like it a lot. I see only one flaw."

"How to keep you from actually _getting_ killed?"

"Bingo."

"I'll let you know what the plan is when the time comes. For now, make those flyers bright and attention grabbing. If they happen to mention something about anti-gang education, even better." Michael said, seeing Cassidy coming. "I'll talk to you later." He said a little louder. "It was nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you Mr. Westen." Said Tom, taking the hint. As he walked past Cassidy, he said "Good job, kid. See you tomorrow."

Cassidy walked over, her gym bag slung over her shoulder. Michael looked at her and smiled. "I just met your teacher."

"So I noticed. Can we go? Ice cream is calling my name…" Cassidy said, grabbing Michael's hand.

"Sure. We just have one quick pit stop to make."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five: Time Goes On**

Michael and Cassidy walked back to the Charger, Cassidy recounting how the match had gone before Michael had shown up. When they reached the car, Michael opened the trunk and Cassidy threw her bag in. As Michael slammed the trunk shut, Cassidy walked to the passenger side, opened the door, and saw the bow be-decked box Michael had brought with him.

"What's this?" Cassidy asked, picking up the box with interest.

"I got you a gift." Said Michael hesitantly.

"Really?" squealed Cassidy excitedly. She tore off the box and opened the box. "No way! I _totally_ wanted one of these! Thank you!" Cassidy ran and embraced Michael, who returned the hug awkwardly. "I'll never take it off! I mean I'll have to take it off swimming and showering and for my dance and gymnastics and here, but other than that I'll wear it always!"

"I was hoping you'd say something like that." Michael said with complete honesty.

"I love it! Thank you!" Cassidy took the watch from the box and tossed the box in the backseat. Michael had to help her fasten the strap of the watch, but when it was secure, Cassidy admired it on her wrist. From his pocket, Michael handed her the user instructions for her to read over to learn about the various features. So totally engrossed in her new watch and all it's functions that it took her a while to realize they weren't far from home. "I thought we were going for ice cream." She said, confused.

"We are. But first, I'd like you to meet someone." Michael said.

"Who?" she asked

"My mother. Your grandmother. I told her about you and she's dying to meet you."

"Oh." Cassidy patted down her hair and clothes. "Do you think she'll like me?"

"She'll love you." Michael said with confidence.

"Okay…" said Cassidy nervously.

Michael pulled the Charger into his mother's driveway. Turning off the engine, he twisted in his seat to look at Cassidy.

"Ready?" he asked

"I guess so… I have to meet her eventually, right?" Cassidy said, trying to sound nonchalant and failing.

"Yup."

Cassidy sighed and gathered her confidence. "Alright. Let's go." She said, unbuckling her seat belt and opening the door. Michael followed suit and led the way to the back door. Cassidy hesitated as he opened the door, but followed her father into the strange kitchen.

"Mom?" Michael called.

"Coming Michael!" called Madeline's disembodied voice from somewhere in the back of the house.

Michael came to stand behind Cassidy, his hands on her shoulders a solid and welcome comfort to the girl. When Madeline walked out, she stopped when she saw Cassidy. Walking slowly towards father and daughter, she began to smile.

"Oh Michael…she's so beautiful!" Madeline cried, her eyes glassy with suppressed tears of joy. "Oh just look at her! She looks so much like you did when you were her age. She has your cheek bones!" Madeline extended her hand to Cassidy. "Hello Cassidy." She said. "I'm so happy to finally meet you. I'm your grandmother."

"Hello." Said Cassidy shyly, taking her grandmother's hand. "It's nice to meet you Mrs. Westen."

"Oh would you listen to her!" Madeline exclaimed to Michael. "She so polite! Oh honey, you can call me Maddie. Or Grandma Maddie if you'd like." She said to Cassidy fondly.

"Okay… Thank you." Cassidy said.

Madeline cupped Cassidy's face with her hands, studying her features. When she noticed how long and curly Cassidy's hair was, she gushed over that as well, looking at her son and saying "Michael, her hair is as curly as yours was when you were a baby!"

"Mom? She needs her face back." Said Michael gently.

Startled, his mother let go. "Oh I'm sorry honey! I'm just so happy to meet you… Oh dear…" Madeline walked away, grabbing a tissue to dab at her eyes.

Cassidy looked up at her father with wide eyes. "Is she okay?" she asked him quietly.

"She's fine." He said to his daughter. To his mother he said, "So Mom, we were going to go get ice cream…"

"Oh okay honey. You two have fun. I'll see you both a little later." Madeline said distractedly.

"Okay Mom… We'll see you later." Michael nudged Cassidy to say something. Cassidy thought for a moment before walking over to Madeline.

When Madeline looked up from her tissue, Cassidy opened her arms to hug her grandmother. Madeline took the hug happily, squeezing the girl tightly. "Bye Grandma Maddie." Said Cassidy. "It was nice to meet you."

"Bye-bye sweetie. I'll see you soon." Said Madeline hoarsely.

Michael motioned with his head in the direction of the door when he caught his daughter's eye. She nodded and followed him.

As they reached the Charger, Madeline hurried out of the kitchen door, a camera in her hand.

"Mom, what-" Michael began to ask his mother.

"I want a picture of the two of you together." She replied

"Mom…"

"Oh please, Michael? Just one quick picture? I need _something_ to show off how pretty my granddaughter is to all my friends at poker later."

Michael sighed and looked at Cassidy, who shrugged. "It's fine with me." She added when she saw Madeline's hopeful face. Michael capitulated.

"Where do you want us, Mom?" he asked

"Right there is fine. Just put your arm around her and smile." Michael did as he was told. Madeline looked through the viewfinder and back at her son. "No Michael! Put your faces closer together." Michael sighed and shifted his position until his arm was around Cassidy's waist and his chin was just off her shoulder. "Oh that's _much_ better." Said Madeline happily, and she snapped the picture. "Alright, you two can go now. Thank you both for the picture!"

"Bye, Mom." Said Michael, climbing quickly into the Charger before his mother changed her mind. Cassidy mutely waved goodbye and sat in the passenger side, buckling her seatbelt.

"Drive safe!" called Madeline as the pulled out of her driveway.

"Well that went… well." Said Michael after a few minutes of silence in the car.

"If you say so." Said Cassidy, uncertain. "I made her _cry_."

"Yeah, but those were happy tears. Trust me. You'd _know_ if she was unhappy."

"I guess… So where are we getting ice cream?" Cassidy asked.

"There used to be a place a few blocks away… Is it still there?" Michael asked, uncertain how things had changed since his childhood.

"I _think _the one you're thinking of is Chip's Ice Cream stand, right?"

"That sounds about right. So it's still there?"

"Yup. The old guy who owned it died a few years back, but his son owns it now." Cassidy said, looking out the window.

Michael thought back to when he had been a kid. He remembered the few times there had been enough money for his mother to take he and his brother to get ice cream. The old man- who had been old when Michael was young- had been a wizened old fellow, short in stature with a wrinkled face and a kind smile. "That's too bad. He was a nice guy."

"Yeah, he was." Agreed his daughter. There was silence in the car for a few minutes before Cassidy looked away from the window to look at Michael. "Can I turn on the radio?" she asked.

"Uh, sure." Said Michael, not sure he was going to like her music selection.

Cassidy turned on the radio and played with the buttons for a few moments before landing on an oldies station. Of course, the oldies station played songs from the 60s, 70s, and 80s, which depressed Michael a little. "Since when did AC/DC become oldies?" he demanded.

Cassidy laughed at her father. "Umm... like, forever ago?" she said, shrugging.

Michael groaned, suddenly feeling old. "I used to listen to these guys when I was _your_ age." He informed her, which did nothing to abate her laughter. "These guys were the coolest band around back then!" he exclaimed, which made Cassidy laugh even harder.

"Not any more!" she said, giggling.

Michael sighed. The years seemed to catch up with him just then, as he realized he was driving his father's old Charger and listening to the oldies station with his child in the car, complaining that music from his generation was on there as his child laughed merrily at him. '_How the hell did _that_ happen_?" he wondered to himself.

Getting out of the car in the crowded parking lot of the ice cream stand, Michael saw how time had changed one of his childhood landmarks. The building was still the same, but the paint was a little faded, and there were cracks and missing pieces of concrete in front of the windows, and the edge of the curb had been rounded by the weather. There was a mini-golf course where there had once been an arcade, and batting cages behind it where once there had been a record store.

"Mike? Are you coming?" Cassidy asked, standing by the trunk of the car.

"Yeah… yeah I'm coming." He said slowly, still taking in all the changes.

"Is something wrong?" she asked him as they walked to the line to wait.

"No, nothing's _wrong_. Things have just…changed a lot since I was here last." Michael shrugged.

"Tempus fugit." Said his daughter sagely.

"What?" said Michael, surprised at her comment.

"It means 'time flies.'" Said Cassidy.

"I know what it means. Where did you learn it?" replied Michael

"Mom says it all the time."

"Ah. Okay…" Michael said.

When they had gotten their ice cream they sat on a bench eating, staring at the setting sun and speaking little, but the silence was a comfortable one. They made quick work of the fast melting ice cream in the Miami heat, but they still managed to get some on their hands and had to each step into the public restrooms to wash their hands.

All too soon, it was time for Michael to drop Cassidy off at her mother's, and Michael found that he really didn't want to. When a song by Tom Petty came on the radio that they both knew, Cassidy coaxed her father into singing along with her.

"I must have gotten my singing ability from you," Cassidy said after the song was over. "Mom can't carry a tune at all!"

Michael laughed. "I don't think I'm that great, but thanks I guess."

"You're ok. A little flat, but otherwise…" Cassidy laughed as she teased her father, who laughed along with her.

They pulled into Melanie's driveway, the gravel crunching under the tires of Michael's car. Getting out of the car, he popped the trunk and pulled out Cassidy's gym bag and handed it to her. She took it and slipped the strap over her shoulder as they stood regarding each other awkwardly.

"Well…" said Michael, unsure of what to say.

"Thanks for the ice cream. It was good." Said Cassidy, and then she added, "I had fun."

"Yeah, it was…fun." Michael said.

Cassidy decided to help her father and end the conversation. She stepped forward and gave him a hug that he returned. "Thanks for the watch too. I really like it."

"I'm glad." He said, letting go.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" Cassidy asked

"I'll have to talk to your mom about it later. I might have to work."

"Okay. Well, goodnight."

"Goodnight Cassie."

Cassidy smiled at him before heading to the door and going into the house. Michael watched her go in before getting back in the Charger and rumbling away, unaware that she stood watching him from behind the curtains in the living room window.

The next few days flew by, Michael picking Cassidy up from the dojo and taking her out to dinner or to the beach to walk for a bit. Cassie was as good as her word about leaving the watch Michael had given her on, as Michael tracked her movement through the days a few times to make sure it was working properly. In part, he picked her up to spend time with her, but he also had to check and see how the flyers were stirring the hornets' nest. They were doing the job that he had intended. Tom told him that he had scared away a few teens writing graffiti on the front door. When Sam came back from doing surveillance with some binoculars and a microphone outside Jose's home and base of operation, he told Michael that Jose was enraged at Tom's stubbornness and unwillingness to stop 'disrupting his business,' and had decided that since his people had been so incompetent the first time in getting rid of the troublesome man, he would have to go and make sure things were taken care of for good.

When Michael heard this, he knew it was time to act. The next day, while Cassidy was changing, he made plans with Tom for the owner to come in and 'work on the books' on a Sunday when the dojo was normally closed to see if Jose would take the chance to attack. Fiona had obtained canisters of knock out gas through one of her many black market contacts, and with Tom's help had designed a solid plan to utilize the ventilation system. Tom himself had been given a gas mask so he could escape unharmed with the tape from the surveillance system as evidence. Fiona was only too glad to volunteer to donate a few blocks of C4 to stash in Jose's house while everyone was out, so that when the police searched the building for evidence it would only add to his jail time. The plan was coming together nicely. Michael could only hope it would work as planned. But when did _that_ happen?


	6. Chapter 6

*_Attention readers: I'd break out the tissues or hankies if you get emotional easily! This gets a little sad later!_

**Chapter Six: Life and Death**

'_I have to tell Fi about Cassidy_.' Michael decided. '_But I have no idea how_…'

Sam looked across the table at Michael from his seat in the sun. They had been sitting at Carlito's having a beer and discussing their plan of attack, but when Cassidy's name was mentioned, Michael had gone very quiet and sank deep in thought. "Mike, buddy you ok?" Sam asked, taking a swig of his drink.

"Hmm? Yeah I'm fine Sam. I was just thinking."

"Still haven't told Fi about Cassidy yet huh?" Sam asked wisely.

"Nope." Michael sighed and slumped down in his chair, rubbing the bridge of his nose and trying to think. "Sam, I just don't know how to tell her after _not_ telling her for so long. I mean, I've know for sure for over a _week_ that Cassidy is…mine. She's going to be beyond pissed that I didn't tell her."

"It's a big thing to deal with, Mikey. Be honest- would _I_ even know if I hadn't been the one putting out the fires when the results popped up?"

"I don't know." Michael said honestly.

"Admittedly, Fi is going to be pissed that she found out after I did. What about Jesse? Are you going to tell him?"

"I probably will. After keeping secrets from him before got me _shot_, I think honesty may be the best policy for now. Besides, if I'm going to ask all of you to protect her in my absence, he may as well know _why_." Michael grimaced and rubbed his shoulder absently.

"I've gotta agree with you there, buddy." Sam acknowledged. "Well look brother, this thing is going down _tomorrow_. You don't exactly have a lot of time to break the news to Fi _or_ Jesse."

"I know Sam. I'm going to take Fi out to dinner tonight. I'll probably tell her there…once the plates are cleared and there's no silverware left on the table." Michael said quickly, half thinking out loud.

"A public place with no weapons." Sam considered before nodding his head. "It _might_ just give you enough time to do some fast talking. What about Jesse?"

"Well, he's coming over later to help me get the gear together for tomorrow. I'll probably tell him then." Michael said, picking up his phone as it rang. "This is probably him now." Answering the phone without looking, he said, "Yeah?"

"Mike?" said Cassidy's voice, quietly.

Michael sat bolt upright at the fear in Cassidy's voice. "Cassidy- what's wrong?"

"Mike there are people outside- with _guns!_"

"Where are you?" asked Michael quickly.

"At the dojo." Answered Cassidy sheepishly.

Michael looked at his watch. "It's 5 o'clock on a Saturday. Why are you there?" he demanded tersely.

"Mike I'm _sorry_- I left my watch here by accident, and Tom was here late and the dojo was still open, so Mom and I came back after dinner so I could get it. But the next thing I know, Tom is _yelling_ at me to hide and he's bolting the door shut and I can see guys outside with _guns_ trying to get inside!" Cassidy broke off suddenly before shrieking in terror. The sound turned Michael's blood to ice in his veins. "Mike they got in! Help-" Cassidy cried before the phone went dead.

"Mike?" said Sam cautiously, seeing his friends face he asked "What's wrong?"

Michael's face was ashen. "Our plan worked Sam- except Tom stayed late _today_ and Jose decided to attack- TODAY!"

"And Cassidy is _there_?" Sam was horrified.

"Sam I have to go. Call Fi and Jesse and get there as soon as you can and-"

"No way, Mike. I'm coming with you. It sounds like you could use all the help you can get."

Michael didn't have the time to argue, tossing money on the table for their bill and running to the Charger, Sam fast on his heels. On the way there, Sam called Fiona and told her what had happened, asking her to call Jesse and get there as quickly as they could with as much firepower as they could muster. Michael only heard half of the conversation, paying more attention to weaving through traffic, not caring how many laws he broke. The drive, which should have taken half an hour with the amount of traffic there was in downtown Miami took less than 10, Sam holding on to the dashboard for dear life and praying at some of the moves Michael pulled getting them there.

When Michael got onto the street, he pulled next to the abandoned clothing store that stood next to the dojo and cut the engine. The clothing store stood on the corner of a side street and shared the parking lot with the dojo, but had abandoned for many years. The buildings were close together; Michael doubted that he could wedge anything wider than his hand between the two. This worked out well, however. The clothing store had an old fire escape- rusted but stable enough to hold their weight- that he and Sam could climb up and onto the roof from, and from that roof to the roof of the dojo and into one of the storage areas on the top floor through a skylight.

_Breaking glass, while an effective way of entering a building, isn't always the quietest. The key is to muffle the sound as much as possible. When that's not possible, you shatter it fast and get away from the area as quickly as possible, and hope that you have enough time_.

Luckily, Michael and Sam were able to drop in to the storeroom fairly quietly, some old mats and padding muffling their landing. Sam's phone buzzed quietly, startling both of them. Sam answered, whispering, "Yeah, Fi. Yeah we're inside. We went through the roof. You and Jesse come in _carefully_ through the front- there's a kid down there somewhere; her mom's still probably in the parking lot. Okay, thanks Fi." Sam hung up the phone and looked at Michael. "Fi getting Melanie to leave the area, but it won't be easy. The lady is probably frantic."

"I am too, Sam, trust me… I'm glad she left though. I'd hate for her to get hurt." Michael replied, drawing his gun from the small of his back.

Creeping out of the storage area and down the dusty hall, Michael heard shouting echo up the stairs. Some of it was in Spanish, a language he didn't speak much of, but he didn't need a translation for the tone of anger in the speaker's voice. Michael turned to Sam when they heard a scream that made Michael's head whip forward and nearly tore his heart out. Cassidy's scream reverberated in Michael's ears as heard her cry, "_NO! LET HIM _GO!" It took all the restraint Michael possessed from running down the stairs to the rescue, but he knew that if he did that there was a good chance that Cassidy could get hurt or even killed.

Michael and Sam slowly advanced down the stairs and into a carpeted hallway with what Michael realized were the changing rooms as he slid carefully past against the solid wall opposite the doors. Halfway down the hall was an open doorway that led to the gym area, which made sense the way the voices were echoing. Peering around the corner, Michael saw Tom slumped over on his knees, his head lolling to one side, and his arms held by two of Jose's thugs. Standing in front of Tom was Jose himself, holding a gun carelessly in one hand and a knife in the other, dripping blood on the mat beneath them. To the side, Anton stood pointing a gun at Cassidy, who cradled her arm as if it were broken. Her hair was coming out of her braid, and she had a bruise on her cheek that was already a livid purple and her lip was split open again and bleeding.

"I _knew_ I didn't like that guy!" hissed Michael to Sam, clicking the safety off of his gun.

Sam grimaced. "Mike I know you're pissed, but we have to wait until Fi and Jesse get into position or Cassidy's gonna have more than a few bruises to worry about!" he whispered back fiercely.

Michael nodded and listened for the sound of Fiona and Jesse charging to the rescue. He didn't have to wait long. A strangled shout carried down the hallway to be heard by Jose, Anton, and the rest. Jose pointed at the two holding up Tom's limp form. "You two go see what the hell is going on. This _puto_ isn't going anywhere." The two dropped Tom unceremoniously face first onto the mat and jogged off towards the waiting area in front. A full minute ticked by, then two, and finally Jose turned his back to Tom and where Michael and Sam hid. "What the _hell_ is taking so long?" he demanded angrily. When was no answer, Sam and Michael exchanged nods and rounded the corner, guns blazing. Anton saw the movement, but couldn't warn Jose in time as Sam fired and hit Jose squarely on one shoulder, then the other, effectively disabling him from fighting back. At the sound of the shots being fired, Fiona and Jesse came charging down the hall to back up their friends, unseen by Anton and Cassidy as he moved quickly, picking her up in a chokehold and pointing his gun at Michael and Sam.

"DAD!" Cassidy screamed, scared and hurt.

"Drop your weapons! Do it now, or the girl dies!" Anton boomed.

"Alright. Just calm down." Michael said soothingly, slowly placing his gun on the ground and kicking it away. "There."

"Him too!" said Anton looking at Sam.

Sam bent down and placed his gun on the ground and stood back up, holding his hands in a non-threatening posture.

"Kneel down on the ground." Commanded Anton, slowly backing up towards the hall- and unbeknownst to him- towards Fiona and Jesse. Michael and Sam slowly knelt down and put their hands behind their head as Anton kept backing up, gun still pointing at the two. When he had gotten within range, Fiona reached forward quickly and hit him with the taser she help in her hand. Anton dropped like a stone, taking Cassidy with him.

Michael got to his feet and sprinted towards his daughter, extricating her from Anton's heavy arms. Fiona flipped Anton over onto his stomach and zip-tied his hands together behind his back, taking extra pleasure in tightening the zip-tie a little tighter than was necessary. Michael paid no attention. He sat holding Cassidy, her broken arm dangling uselessly at her side.

"You could have been _killed_." He whispered fiercely in her ear, unable to stop the few tears of relief that ran down his cheeks to fall on her face.

"I'm sorry… I promised I wouldn't take it off. I had to come get it. I didn't want you to get mad." Cassidy whispered back weakly.

Michael gave a watery chuckle, and found that he couldn't think of a response.

"Michael?" Fiona knelt beside him. "We have to get the tape and get out of here. The police will be here any minute."

Michael nodded and got up, picking up Cassidy as gently as he could. "I have to take her to the hospital. Her arm's broken."

"Let's go then." Fiona replied, deciding to leave the fact that Michael had kept Cassidy a secret until later.

"I got the tape, buddy." Said Sam, jogging up to them. "I'll leave it up front for the cops to make it look like they were gonna get rid of the evidence."

Tom staggered to his feet. "I'll take it." He said wearily, walking stiffly over. "Anton and I have some chatting to do before the police get here. You lot had better go. I'll catch up with you all after this mess is dealt with."

Michael nodded and followed Fiona and Jesse out through the waiting area followed by Sam. They carefully picked their way over the few bodies Fiona and Jesse had hogtied and left on the floor, unconscious.

Sam and Jesse went with Fiona in her car, following Michael to take Cassidy to the hospital. On the way, Michael called Melanie and told her what had happened, and agreed to meet her at the hospital so she could check Cassidy in herself.

Cassidy had a broken arm, a fractured cheek bone, and a split lip, but she was otherwise all right. Melanie had been panic-stricken and crying when Michael had helped their daughter out of the car. Even now, standing in the emergency room and watching her daughter's cast being put on, Melanie's eyes glistened with tears that threatened to spill over.

"She's going to be alright, Mel." Michael said, trying to convince her as well as himself.

"She could have been killed! There was a _gun_ pointed at her!" exclaimed Melanie, struggling to keep her voice down.

"It could have been worse Mel- a _lot_ worse." Melanie hugged herself tightly, breathing hard. Michael thought for a moment that she was going to have an anxiety-attack until she suddenly dropped like a stone. "I need a doctor!" Michael roared, kneeling down beside Melanie.

A doctor and two triage nurses ran over and knelt down, pushing Michael out of the way. "What happened?" asked the doctor quickly, helping the nurses roll her over.

"She just dropped. She was worried about our daughter and-"

"Does she have any medical conditions you're aware of?" the doctor asked

"She has cancer," Michael said slowly. "Pancreatic cancer."

The doctor looked grim and he and the nurses got a backboard under Melanie and a brace on her neck. They lifted her onto a gurney and secured her before the doctor turned to Michael. "We'll have to run some tests. Do you know how advanced the cancer is?"

"She was diagnosed three months ago- other than that I have no idea. We're not…together." He added as the doctor gave him a strange look.

"Well, I'll start some tests and call her oncologist. I'd let your daughter know what happened and find a seat in the waiting area. This may take some time."

Michael broke the news to Cassidy as best he could and waited with her as her cast was finished. Walking out with her, he saw Sam, Jesse, and Fiona sitting in the waiting area. Michael led Cassidy forward. "Cassidy? These are my friends: Sam, Fiona, and Jesse." Michael said, pointing to each of them in turn. "Everyone, this is Cassidy St. James. My daughter."

There was an awkward silence before Sam stepped forward. "Hey there Cassie." He said, holding out his hand to shake. "You look like you could use something to eat. Let's go find the cafeteria and get you some ice cream. Fi and your dad need to chat." Sam dragged Jesse away, and the two men walked down the hall with the young girl, debating about what flavor of ice cream was the best.

Michael regarded Fiona with a guilty look. "Fi, I-"

"Sam told us on the way here. How could you keep this a secret from us? From _me_?" Fiona demanded, hurt.

"I was going to tell you, Fi. I just didn't know how. Hell, _I'm_ still trying to get used to the idea!"

Fiona crossed her arms and regarded Michael for a moment. "I suppose it _is_ a bit of a shock." She allowed. "But that doesn't get you off the hook for our dinner."

Michael smiled. "Thanks, Fi."

"So tell me about…all this." Said Fiona, reclaiming her seat and indicating for Michael to join her.

"Well, when I was in high school…" Michael began

When the doctor returned a few hours later, Cassidy had fallen asleep with her head on Sam's arm, a little residue from her chocolate ice cream still at the corners of her lips. The doctor shook his head and delivered the bed news: Melanie was being admitted as a terminal patient. The cancer, which had been advanced when it was finally discovered three months ago, and grown dramatically. From the test results, the doctors estimated that Melanie had weeks to live if she was lucky; her body was slowly shutting down.

Breaking the news to Cassidy was the hardest thing Michael ever hoped to do. Cassidy sobbed, heartbroken, for over an hour into Michael's shoulder before Madeline showed up and took her into her arms, gently rocking her back and forth. When she was calm enough, Cassidy was allowed into her mother's room to visit for a short while, while Michael sat outside the door and waited. It hadn't been long before a nurse told them kindly that visiting hours were over and they had to leave, Cassidy making Michael promise to bring her back tomorrow.

Cassidy slept very little at first that night, kept awake by horrible nightmares and the pain from her injuries. Finally, Michael made her take the pain killers the doctor had prescribed and she fell into a deep and dreamless sleep at last, her head on Michael's lap and her broken arm hanging over the side of the couch. With his daughter finally asleep, Michael allowed himself to doze, physically and emotionally drained from the day's events.

In her final days, Melanie went down hill very quickly, and seldom left her hospital bed. The only time she left her room at all was when Cassidy came for her daily visit and Michael wheeled Melanie out to the garden. Melanie told him that she thought it made Cassidy more comfortable to visit outside, but he thought it made her feel better too to not have her daughter see her in a hospital bed, growing more and more frail. Michael was surprised and a little touched to pass Jesse, Sam, Fiona, and even Madeline as they left a few times as he came in with Cassidy to visit. Fiona swore to him coyly that she was just trying to get Melanie to tell her a few embarrassing stories about him, and Michael pretended to believe her, even when her coy attitude fell flat.

Cassidy formed a bond quickly with Michael's friends. Jesse and Fiona, having lost close family members as well, were able to connect with the girl and even made her laugh on occasion. Michael and his mother were glad for their help. Sam kept her entertained by telling her cleaned-up versions of some of his escapades as a Navy SEAL, making her wide-eyed at his close calls and laugh heartily at his more embarrassing misadventures.

Cassidy was unwilling to leave her home while her mother still lived, so Michael packed a bag and the USB drive and stayed in a guest room down the hall from Cassidy's room for the last week of Melanie's life. When she passed, it was late at night when Cassidy had long been asleep. Michael got the phone call he had been dreading from the hospital and called his mother, Fiona, Jesse, and Sam to let them know before slowly climbing the stairs and waking Cassidy, cradling her as she sobbed into his shirt. He fell asleep holding her, and woke the next morning to find her still curled in his arms. Going downstairs he smelled coffee, and walked into the kitchen to find Sam and Fiona at the table, while his mother made breakfast over the cook top. Silently, Michael padded over to the table and sat down, more thankful then for his friends than he had been in a long time. Madeline handed them each a plate of eggs and bacon before taking a tray up the stairs to Cassidy's room. She didn't come down for a while, but when she did she had a wet spot on her shirt, a tray of dirty dishes, and a puffy-eyed Cassidy following behind her.

"Hey, Cassie." Said Michael. "How's your arm feel?"

"It hurts." She said simply. Looking up at him, Michael saw tears trailing down her face. "_Everything_ hurts._"_ she added miserably.

Fiona got up and wrapped her arm around Cassidy's shoulders. "Did I ever tell you about the time I tried to make my sister, Clare's favorite pudding?" she asked. Cassidy shook her head no. "Come out to the yard with me a bit and I will. I think the sun will do you some good." Cassidy went with her to the backyard, taking Brody along with them.

"She'll be alright," said Madeline as Michael watched them walk down the stairs.

"I know." Said Michael. He turned to his mother and swallowed. "There's some…paperwork that needs to be filed, and I need to contact her lawyer. Could you…?"

"I'll watch her, Mikey." Said Sam gently. "Your mom should go with you to help file the paperwork. Fi, Jesse, and I will be fine here."

Michael didn't argue. He valued his mom's help that day, making the arrangements Melanie had outlined in her will, and her experience dealing with all the paperwork and forms that dealt with death.

The funeral was held a few days later, and was attended by people from her work, her father's former firm, their neighbors, and some people from Cassidy's schools of dance, gymnastics, and karate. The number of strange people in suits made Michael nervous, and more than once he scanned the crowd of people around the casket to see if anyone stuck out. No one did. Halfway through the funeral rites, Madeline elbowed her son sharply and looked across him pointedly at Cassidy, who stood next to him, crying silently. Michael slipped his arm around her awkwardly, feeling her slip her arm around his waist under his jacket, barely missing the gun that was tucked at the small of his back by a few scant inches.

When the funeral was over, Sam stayed to make sure that everything was properly handled at the gravesite and the rest of them went to the reception held at a small Italian restaurant, but they ate little and spoke less. When Sam arrived at last, he joined the group at their table, drinking only water. At last, when the last few stragglers had finally left, the group went to Melanie's home. Sitting on the couch with Sam and flipping listlessly through the channels while Jesse took the dog for a walk and the woman-folk changed into more comfortable clothing, Michael toyed with an idea in his head. At length, when Madeline and Fiona came down and informed Michael that his daughter had decided to stay in her room and be alone, Michael discussed the idea with his mother. Fiona and Sam added their opinions, as did Jesse when he returned with Brody, but after a while, an idea was agreed upon.

Over the next week, Michael and Madeline worked with a very nice realtor to put The St. James home on the market with most of the furniture included. What items Cassidy wished to take with her were loaded onto a storage pod that sat in the driveway to be unloaded at the Westen house when it was full. Carefully, Madeline, Fiona, and Cassidy packed pictures and breakable bits in bubble wrap and nestled them in boxes with Cassidy's clothing and blankets. While the ladies packed, Michael put Jesse and Sam to work with him, putting the idea they had discussed late into the night after Melanie's funeral into action. Wall paneling was put up and painted a soft mint green, full length mirrors were carefully secured to the wall, and hardwood floors were laid down and sanded smooth.

Finally, their project was done to Michael's exacting specifications, and they adults moved in Cassidy's furniture while the girl napped in the sun, sleepy from her pain medication. Michael had to carry her sleeping form in from the sun after awhile, afraid that she would get a sunburn on top of everything else. When she woke inside on her grandmother's couch, Madeline was setting the table for dinner while everyone else finished unloading the storage pod.

"Hey there, sleepy head." Madeline said, smiling at Cassidy. "You're awake just in time for dinner."

"I'm not very hungry." Cassidy said, rubbing her eyes with her good hand.

"That's the pain medication speaking, honey." Her grandmother responded, adding more firmly, "You need to eat something. We got the pizza you like and everything."

"Okay… Where is everyone?" Cassidy asked, looking around.

"They're outside. They just finished unloading everything I think…" Madeline peered out the window as Michael bounded in.

Seeing Cassidy up and awake, he came over to check on her, examining her facial injuries carefully.

"Dad I'm _fine_!" complained Cassidy, still a little grumpy from her nap.

Michael smiled at her. "I have a surprise for you."

Cassidy perked up. "What is it?"

"Come and see," Michael said, taking her good hand and leading her outside.

Outside, the air was cooling down and the sun set, but was still a little humid. Fiona, Sam and Jesse stood near the door to Madeline's garage door, looking triumphant. Madeline followed her son and granddaughter out the door, a big smile on her face. Michael pulled a bandana out of his back pocket and fastened it over Cassidy's eyes before she could protest.

"Dad, what the-"

"Just take my hand and be patient." Michael instructed his daughter.

Fiona opened the door to the garage and everyone stepped inside. When Michael took off the blindfold, Cassidy stood and stared in amazement at what had once been her grandmother's garage. Against the far wall, her bedroom was set up as it had been at her mother's home, her pictures dusted and neatly arranged. To her far left against the back wall was a small living area, complete with a couch; two arm chairs, a table, and a TV. Stepping in the room further, Cassidy saw that the wall had been lined with mirrors and a few exercise mats. In the corner hung a new punching bag, and her stereo system was a safe distance away on an open cabinet, her cds neatly organized underneath.

Cassidy was astounded and deeply touched.

"Do you like it?" asked Madeline finally.

"I _love_ it!" Cassidy exclaimed. "It's like my own…apartment. This is so cool!" She ran and tackled her father in a massive hug. "Thanks Dad!"

"What are we, chopped liver?" demanded Sam

Cassidy laughed and hugged them each in their turn, whispering her thanks.

"All right, lets go eat before the pizza gets cold." Said Madeline finally

"Sounds good Grandma- I'm _starving_!" said Cassidy, bolting towards the back door. "Last one in washes dishes!" she called. The adults looked at each other, then scrambled after her.

Madeline laughed and closed the door to Cassidy's new room. '_Kids_!' she thought to herself, laughing.

*_To all my readers_: thank you so much for all your wonderful comments and support! It has meant more to me than you could ever imagine. I never thought I was much of a writer, just someone with a story stuck in her head who simply _had_ to get it out by writing it down before she went mad. Upon re-reading my last chapter, I felt that the story needed an epilogue, so here it is. There may or may not be more to the story of Michael and Cassidy, or there might not. No, I'm not trying to tease anyone; I honestly just haven't made up my mind yet. I have two or three other stories in my mind, each dealing with Michael finding out he has a daughter, but at _radically_ different ages- if I decide to be really vicious, he may even have two at once! But enough about that…

*_Side-note_: while I, too, am a huge Mike/Fi fan, and writing this presented a few challenges for me at first. I take comfort, however, in the fact that Cassidy was 'conceived' long before Mike and Fiona met, and I hope that makes everyone else feel better too.

**Broken Bird: Epilogue**

The pizza was gone, the boxes broken up, and Madeline was washing the dishes at the sink while Michael took the trash out and everyone else departed to their own homes. It had been decided that Michael would sleep a few days a week at Madeline's house until either Cassidy being there alone, or Michael's burn notice was lifted and he went back to work. After Madeline had finished the dishes, she and Michael taped an empty plastic bag over Cassidy's arm so that she could take a shower without getting her cast wet, and Madeline braided and bound up Cassidy's long hair so that she wouldn't get it wet. Madeline went to bed early that night, tired from the busy week of packing and moving. Brody went with her; the two had become good friends, and the dog loved to curl up by Madeline's bed at night.

Michael and Cassidy stayed up late, savoring the last week of Cassidy's time off of school, making popcorn and watching a movie. The calm domesticity of the moment overtook Michael as Cassidy cuddled under his arm; deeply engrossed in the movie that Michael wasn't even paying attention to. For the first time, Michael found himself wondering not _how_ was he going to go back to his old life, but did he _want_ to? He was looking askance at 40, and he'd been shot, blown up, and nearly killed too many times to count- and he didn't heal nearly as fast as he used to. There was also the concern of Larry, Vaughn, Brennan, and Simon if he ever escaped again. What would they do- and how far would they go- to get to him? Could Sam, Fi, Jesse, and his mom protect Cassidy without getting killed? Cassidy shifted her position from under his arm to lay her head on his lap, and Michael shook his head at himself. Whether nor not he chose to go back to his old life was a bridge he'd cross when he got to it. Getting his burn notice lifted had to happen first, and that task in and of itself would be a monumental feat, even if he _did_ turn in the USB drive.

Cassidy's shoulder was digging into his leg painfully, his legs still sore as they were from the work done to the garage and unloading the moving pod.

"Cassidy, can you shift…" Michael looked down at his daughter and realized that she was fast asleep. "Never mind." He said, more to himself as he eased his leg out from under her head. Cassidy grumbled a little in her sleep as he moved and gently scooped her up and carried her outside to her room, yawning a little himself.

Michael laid his daughter onto her queen size bed and maneuvered her under the covers. As he began to straighten up he hesitated for a moment, then bent back down and kissed her softly on the forehead.

"Dad…?" Cassidy mumbled sleepily as he walked away.

Michael walked back and bent down, smoothing down her hair. "Shh… Go to sleep… chickadee."

Cassidy smiled, already nearly asleep again. "Okay, Daddy…" she whispered.

Michael waited until she was sound asleep before bending down once more to utter a phrase in barely a whisper before he walked away into the night.

"I love you."

The next day, at his loft, Michael came to a decision about the USB drive.

"Jesse? I need you to call Marv. It's time we handed over the info to the government."


End file.
